


Stanley Angelica Pines

by WinchesterWarrenSon



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Trans, Family Drama, M/M, Misgendering, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Transphobia, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 04:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 19,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16885527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinchesterWarrenSon/pseuds/WinchesterWarrenSon
Summary: Collection of what was originally semi-connected oneshots on Tumblr for my Stanley Angelica Pines AU. All parts have been posted, but it's not really a "complete" story.Filbrick and Angela Pines weren't expecting a second baby, a twin. Filbrick wrote down a name before Angela could stop him. She then gave the second baby a more suitable name for a girl. As time goes on, it seems like Filbrick might've had the right idea.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As a story on AO3, this is going to be terribly unconnected and following a few different plot threads I had entertained on tumblr, where having a bunch of barely connected one-shots was okay and not a logistical nightmare. But it doesn't make sense to make them all their own little fanfics, so we're just gonna have it have the oneshots posted as chapters in the order in which I posted it on tumblr in the first place. So there's the OG version, the Mystery Trio version, and versions that are made of up things I wrote per audience/follower suggested prompts. 
> 
> EVERYTHING IS PLATONIC EXCEPT FOR JimStan, Fiddlestan, and implied DanStan. And of course Ma and Filbrick Pines.

She had been Mrs. Pines for a long while at this point. They hadn’t planned on having more children, but these things happen. She was a strong woman, and she would have this baby. 

But it felt harder than last time, harder than Shermie had been. Wasn’t it supposed to get easier with practice? 

“Uh oh,” the doctor said, and she was just about to bite Filbrick’s hand in frustration. 

“Uh oh WHAT!? What do you mean ‘uh oh’!?” 

“There’s a second one!” 

She could almost see Filbrick calculating how much more money that would be, and she really did want to bite his hand because the least he could do while she was laying there was not think about the money! 

She knew the first one’s name was Stanford. It was the name they had agreed on. But after the second one was born, she was so tired, and all she really remembered was falling asleep. 

When she woke back up, the nurses assessed her health and asked if she’d like to see her two twins. 

They were brought to her, one in a blue blanket, and one in a pink blanket. 

A boy and a girl. 

She teared up a little. She had always wanted a girl. 

“Awww, the sweet little angels. Oh, but what are we gonna name her?” 

Filbrick waved his hand and took a few steps closer. 

“I took care of that already. It’s on the birth certificate and everything.”

“So what is it?” 

“Stanley.” 

Filbrick had the decency to look afraid of the glare she sent him. She was not much when it came to her temper, and she was not usually a woman one would fear, but there were some things that riled her up like no other. 

“You named our baby girl Stanley? You can’t name a girl Stanley, Filbrick Pines!”

“I couldn’t think of anything else.” 

She groaned loudly. 

“Where’s the certificate? Surely there’s room for a middle name. I always liked the name Angelica.” 

So Stanley Angelica Pines was her name. Mrs. Pines had thought they could just call her by her middle name and be done with it. 

Oh, how wrong she was. So, so wrong. 

As the twins grew up, it became apparent that Stanley Angelica Pines would only respond to “Angie” if absolutely necessary. Mrs. Pines felt it was somehow Filbrick’s fault, but she’d be lying to herself if she tried to tell herself that Ford wasn’t also responsible. 

Stanford Pines had never referred to his sister by her middle name a day in his life. Always Stanley this, Stanley that. Always Stanley, Stanley, Stanley. Sometimes just Stan. And Stanley’s response to “Angie” always came with the same moaning. 

“But Mom, my name is Stanley! Why can’t that just be good enough?”

Her little girl hated dresses and the idea of make-up and frills and lace and bows. Always wanted to be running around with her brother, getting dirty and building on boats and playing ball. Some days, Mrs. Pines was too tired to fight her on it. 

Everyone assured her it was just a phase. Just a phase. 

Phases stop at some point, though. This … this didn’t.

Mrs. Pines could only stand there as Ford and Filbrick and Angie fought.

“Who the hell cares, anyway!? You never wanted a sister, and you didn’t want a daughter!”

Hot tears rolled down Angie’s face. Her face that had a bit of scruff from the hormone imbalance she refused to treat. The hormone imbalance that made her periods stop almost completely, the one that threatened diabetes and cancer. Things Mrs. Pines didn’t want for her child. She just wanted her child to be healthy.

“So why’s it so hard for you to accept that I don’t want to be a girl!? That I’m not a girl, I’m - you named me Stanley, for fuck’s sake! Only Ma had any problems with calling me Stanley, so why is it so flipping hard to see me as a boy when THAT’S WHAT YOU ALWAYS WANTED ANYWAY!?”

Mrs. Pines made her first move since the argument started. She walked over to Angie and pulled her into a hug.

“It’s all right, Angie. We - we’ll get you help, all right? It’ll be okay.”

Stanley’s fists tightened.

“My name’s not Angie, Ma. I hate that name.”

It was a miracle that any of them had calmed down enough to sleep. Or at least pretend to by laying in bed. Mrs. Pines stared at the ceiling, brows furrowed. Filbrick lay beside her, also staring up at the ceiling. 

“I don’t understand how this happened,” Filbrick said quietly. 

Mrs. Pines’s voice was full of bitterness when she responded. “Maybe if someone had bothered to ever treat her like the girl she was, this wouldn’t be happening.” 

“I - ” 

“Ford mimicked your example, you know. And now look at her. Thinks she wants to be a boy and getting taken advantage of by dykes.” 

“Honey - ”

“Oh, but it’s so hard to think of a name that doesn’t start with Stan! Let’s name the girl Stanley! It’s not like she’ll be able to sense that you didn’t want her in the first place!” The air in the room got thicker, and it was getting hard to breathe right. “I’m sleeping on the couch. I can’t stand this right now.”

Mrs. Pines got up and headed into the living room. Only to find Stanley had already camped out on the couch. She could hear Stanley’s tears. Frowning, she went over to her child and put a hand on her shoulder. 

“Go away, Ma,” Stanley said, voice watery. 

“Do you want hot chocolate and late night TV? I’m not going to bed if it means sleeping with your father.” 

“… Okay.” 

It was the last mother-child bonding moment she ever got to have with Stanley Angelica Pines before she … (he?) ran away.


	2. "Of course you took my name."

The portal had worked. Ford was actually, finally back. 

“You’re finally here!” 

Stan went up to Ford, arms out-stretched, but what met him was a punch to the face instead of the expected hug. 

“Ow! What was that for?” 

“That was an insanely risky move, restarting the portal! Didn’t you read my warnings!? And - what the fuck did you do to yourself while I was gone? You look worse than you did thirty years ago!” 

“Don’t use the F-bomb in front of the kids!” 

“Kids?” 

Ford looked around and saw that there were indeed two children in the room with them. 

“You’re a mom now!?” 

“No, idiot, they’re Shermie’s grandkids! I’ve been infertile for years!” 

Mabel, Dipper, and Soos just stared, shocked and confused. Mabel’s eyebrows got more furrowed, and Dipper just couldn’t drop his mouth farther open. 

“Wait, mom? Infertility? What’re you talkin’ about?” Soos asked. 

Stan groaned heavily. He had never wanted to have that conversation with anybody, let alone Soos. 

“Y-yeah, just what’s going on here?” Mabel asked. 

Ford sighed. “First things first, does anyone else know about this location?” 

“No, just us. And maybe the entire U.S. government.” 

“The what!?”

After Ford calculated how long it would take the government people to find them, he took out his journal and started planning. 

“Thankfully, we have time to come up with a plan,” Ford said. 

“And since we’ve got time, maybe we could learn about a mysterious backstory?” Mabel said, hopeful. 

“Yes, I want to know what’s been going on, too, Stanley.” 

“Stanley?” Dipper said. 

“But your name is Stanford.” 

Ford turned around and glared at Stan, looking like he was going to say something in an indignant manner, perhaps even with a small crack in his voice because he was just that outraged. But Ford seemed to think it through rather quickly. 

“Of course you took my name. Of course you did.” 

“Shut it, Ford.” 

“Easy to pass yourself off as male when the owner of your new identity was never anything but.” 

“You shut up.” 

Dipper and Mabel looked back and forth between Stan and Ford, feeling nervous and left out of the conversation. 

“I don’t understand,” Dipper said. 

Stan looked over at the boy, then sighed. 

“I’ll explain….” 

And he did. About how he had been born Stanley Angelica Pines and only had the name Stanley because Filbrick Pines had been unimaginative and lazy. That teachers and their mother had always called him Angie or Angelica, but Filbrick and Ford had always used his first name, and it felt so much more right and accurate. About how Stan and Ford had been inseparable until puberty and the hormone imbalance diagnosis and the refusal to take his medication. About how Stan blew up after getting caught making out with Carla McCorkle by their parents and said that he was a boy, always had been a boy, even if he didn’t have the right parts. About how that led to Filbrick sending Stanley away to “therapy” and about how Stanley had run away. About how Stanley got involved in scamming people and illegal activity, using fake IDs with fake names but the right gender on the ID. He didn’t mention the prisons he had been in. The kids didn’t need to know that. 

Ford … Ford explained his side of things as well. 

“I tried to find her after we heard that she had run away from the facility. I had been against her going in the first place, but no one had listened to me. But since she was going by different names, I couldn’t keep track of her and I ended up losing her. I thought it was forever. So I instead focused on my studies and went to college - not my dream college, my perpetual motion experiment was deemed flawed and not worth their time. But it was college nonetheless.” He explained about coming to Gravity Falls and studying the paranormal. He explained about the portal and Fiddleford McGucket. “Right when I thought I was completely losing my mind, our mother contacted me out of the blue and said that she had somehow gotten contact info for Stanley. She was the only one I could still trust, so I asked her to come here.”

“Apparently that trust is a one-way street,” Stan spat. 

Ford looked hurt, and Stan refused to let that sting. 

“We … we got into a fight when she arrived,” Ford said. 

“If you’re going to keep using girl pronouns, you might as well just call me Angie, Ford.”

“That, uh, is actually an exact statement from that fight 30 years ago, so, uh … yeah. Anyway, it escalated, we got physical, the portal turned on, I was pushed into it….” 

“And I’ve spent the last thirty years trying to get him back, using the Mystery Shack as a way to pay the mortgage,” Stan said. 

Dipper and Mabel looked very uncomfortable. 

“If you think Grunkle Stan’s a girl, why’d you hit her?” Dipper asked. 

“I -” Ford started, but he couldn’t think of anything to really say. “We always rough-housed….” 

“You’re not supposed to hit girls,” Dipper said, rubbing his arm. 

Stan shot a smile at Dipper. It was a fake smile, but he didn’t want Dipper worrying about him. 

“Good thing I’m a grunkle, not a grauntie, then, eh?” Stan said. 

It didn’t really cheer Dipper up. Mabel, however, got a steel-eyed look on her face. 

“Yeah, well, boys shouldn’t get hit, either, especially by their brother!” 

“Sh-she always started it!” Ford said defensively. 

They then heard the FBI guys upstairs. 

“We don’t have time for this, we have to find a way out of here!” 

Dipper, ever the practical boy, offered the memory gun as a solution, which Ford thought was brilliant. The threat of the government was soon neutralized. 

But now … . 

Stan had been worried that the kids would end up taking Ford’s side on the whole gender thing. He hadn’t wanted Soos to know, and he was afraid. 

But just by watching them, he knew he didn’t have to be afraid now. 

He had never seen such an ugly look on Soos’s face before, and it was directed at Ford. 

He had expected Dipper to be super excited about meeting Ford, because it was the Author and Dipper was obsessed. But Dipper looked uncomfortable and unsure, and Stan hadn’t seen the boy look like that since the first morning he had spent at the Shack. 

Mabel went to Stan and gave him a hug. 

“We love you, Grunkle Stan.”

“I love you too, sweetie. Why don’t you and Dipper get some sleep? I’ve gotta catch up with my brother.” 

Mabel looked a little unsure, and Stan honestly didn’t quite know how his great-niece got so … socially aware. 

Then Stan remembered Grenda, and he had a feeling that maybe Mabel was more familiar with what Stan had gone through than he realized. 

“He’s my brother, not a monster. I’ll be fine.” 

Mabel mumbled an ‘okay’, then took Dipper by the hand and ushered themselves inside. 

“Mr. Pines, can I stay the night?” 

Stan willed himself not to tear up with happiness at the fact that Soos was still calling him Mr. Pines. 

“Nah, you should head home. Your abuelita must be worried. I’ll see you tomorrow, Soos.” 

“Good night, Mr. Pines.” 

Soos gave Ford one last glare, then walked away. 

Stan looked over at Ford, and it struck him just how small Ford looked right then. 

“I … I don’t understand,” Ford said, even his voice sounding small. 

“I know you don’t, Poindexter. And I actually don’t think explaining it is gonna happen tonight. C’mon inside.” 

Upstairs in the attic, Dipper stared up at the ceiling while Mabel pulled her nightie over her head. 

“I … I wanted to meet the author, but … I had thought….” 

“Thought he’d be different?” Mabel said. 

Dipper nodded. Mabel sat on the edge of her bed and watched Dipper. Dipper rolled over to look at her. 

“I know Grunkle Stan is a man, but if Great Uncle Ford thinks Grunkle Stan’s a girl, then he’s okay with hitting a girl, and … .” 

“And it’s not boxing practice,” Mabel said. “Or a life-or-death situation.” 

“Yeah….” 

“And you’ve been idolizing him, even though you hadn’t even met him, and this is kind of a shock.” 

“Yeah….” 

“Do you want to sleep with Mr. Snuggles tonight?” Mabel held up one of her stuffed animals. 

Dipper wordlessly nodded, and Mabel tossed the toy over to him. They both still had trouble sleeping.


	3. "What Kind of a Girl is Named Stanley?"

Ford remembered being five years old when they had made the decision. 

Puberty and adulthood had made the conclusion look so stupid in hindsight, but at the time, it had seemed perfectly logical. 

He and Stanley bathed together still at this point in their lives, so it wasn’t like Ford hadn’t known what his sibling looked like down there, but it hadn’t struck him as important. 

“Stanley, if you’re a girl, why is your name Stanley?” Ford had asked as they colored. 

Stanley just shrugged. “I dunno. Heh, maybe I’m not a girl!” 

“But Mom says - oh! Ohhhhhhh. You’ve got a point.” 

Stanley laughed; even at the age of five, both twins were aware that their mother was a pathological liar. No sense of control when it came to lying, and Filbrick would never let either of them forget the fact that she was a liar, liar, pants on fire. She’d lie about whether or not they needed toilet paper. 

“So is Angelica a boy’s name?” Ford asked. 

“Let’s ask Dad,” Stanley suggested. 

Filbrick was reading the newspaper when they located him. 

“Dad! Daddy! Is Angelica a boy’s or a girl’s name?” Stanley asked. 

Filbrick grunted. 

“A girl’s name, obviously. What kind of a boy would be named Angelica?” 

“What kind of a girl is named Stanley?” Ford said. 

Filbrick’s ears burned red, and the newspaper shuffled together. 

“Who named me, Dad? You or Mom?” Stanley asked before Ford could get yelled at. 

“I named you Stanley, your mother named you Angelica.” 

“Ah,” Ford said, his hypothesis being strengthened in his little head. 

“Thanks, Dad!” Stanley said, then Stanley and Ford ran back to where they had been working on their coloring. “That settles that! Dad wouldn’t make a mistake like naming a girl a boy’s name.” 

“And Mom lies about everything,” Ford said. “So you must be a boy!” 

Stanley giggled, then puffed out his little chest. 

“I like the sound of that!” 

From that point on (until they were caught), Ford started introducing Stanley as his twin brother. 

But then their kindergarten teacher told on them. The parent-teacher conference wasn’t an enjoyable thing to sit in on. 

“I don’t understand why you two are lying to everyone!” Ma Pines said, one hand clutching her purse tightly. 

Both Ford and Stanley were giving her a look that probably no parent would tolerate in any circumstance. 

“Gee, wonder where we’d get that from,” Ford said. 

“We’re not lying! Stanley’s a boy’s name!” Stanley said. 

“Angie, you are a girl. Why else would your middle name be Angelica?” Ma said. 

“But Dad named me - !” 

Filbrick cleared his throat, his ears red as they always turned when he felt angry or embarrassed. 

“Pumpkin, you understand the differences between boys and girls, don’t you?” 

Filbrick clearly didn’t want to be having this conversation, and the other two adults seemed to be figuring out this was going to start to go in a direction that no one was prepared to have with five-year-olds. 

“They have different names and one wears a dress,” Stanley said. “And I don’t like dresses.” 

“There’s, uh, other differences. Surely you’ve noticed you and your brother are different?”

Ford of course had noticed, and Stanley had too, but they were having different reactions to this bit of information. 

“You mean, like, how we go to the bathroom?” Ford said. 

“Yes, like that. Boys can go standing up, and girls have to squat. You squat, now, don’t you, Stanley?” 

“Y-yeah, but - ” 

“If she’s a girl, why’d you name her Stanley?” Ford asked, crossing his arms. 

All they had gotten was a lot of throat-clearing and evading of the question. Ford narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but he couldn’t ignore the facts. If the way they had to pee was an indication of gender, then Stanley was indeed a girl. 

“Sorry, Stanley. I guess you really are a girl,” Ford said after the parent-teacher conference and as Ma and Filbrick argued in the front of the car. 

Stanley was frowning. “I don’t like that.” 

Ford had thought she had grown out of it. Sure, she remained a tomboy. And then she had been happy when her hormones started acting in ways they weren’t supposed to when they had hit puberty. Ford had thought it was just a child’s misunderstanding. 

_“You never wanted a sister, and you didn’t want a daughter!”_

It was supposed to be a misunderstanding.

_“If you’re going to keep using girl pronouns, you might as well just call me Angie, Ford.”_

Ford hated being wrong.


	4. "Stanley's Bleeding Really Bad!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stanley's first period.

When they were twelve, Ford had been woken up to screaming one morning. Ford sat up so fast he accidentally hurt himself on the ceiling. That was the one drawback to having the top bunk. 

“Ow! Stanley? Stanley, are you okay?” Ford asked. 

“F-F-F-Ford! H-help me! Help!” 

Ford quickly climbed down from the top bunk. As he descended, he could see what had freaked Stanley so badly. 

His eyes widened as he saw a dark red spot on the bed where Stanley had been sleeping. Stanley was now standing beside her bed. Ford jumped down the rest of the way. She was hugging her stomach and was hunched over. 

“It hurts real bad!” 

“Stanley, I - I’m gonna get Ma!” 

Ford ran out of the bedroom, hollering for their mother. 

Both parents appeared, Filbrick not looking happy at all to have been woken up. 

“Stanley’s bleeding really bad!” 

When Ford brought them back into the bedroom, Stanley was curled up on the floor. Ford hurried to her side. When he saw how much the blood had stained the back of her pajama pants, Ford really started to panic. 

He didn’t know much about the human body, but he had read enough to know that internal bleeding was bad, very bad, and what had happened to his sister? 

Ma Pines and Filbrick surveyed the scene. Ford expected both of them to be just as panicked as he was, and he expected both of them to help, to do something. 

Filbrick’s ears turned red, and he just muttered something about Ma being able to handle it and turned right around. 

“Oh, sweetie,” Ma said. She came over and placed her hands on Stanely’s shoulders. 

Ford didn’t understand. Why wasn’t she freaking out? 

“It’s all right. You’re just becoming a woman.” 

Ma looked at Ford, then smiled nervously. 

“Could you give me and Angie a moment alone, Ford?” 

“What?” Ford said. Leave his sister alone? While she’s in this much pain? 

“No!” Stanley said, grabbing onto Ford’s pajama pants. “Don’t leave! Ma, whaddya mean? It hurts real bad!” 

Ma cleared her throat, then focused on Stanley. She was a little red in the face. Ford would only understand in hindsight that it was because he was standing there. 

“It’s just your first period, sweetie. It’s nothing we can’t handle. Let’s get you to the bathroom.” 

Ford didn’t really know what was going on. But Stanley got to skip school that day. Ford tried to find answers at the library in the school, but the little he was able to find was too vague and the librarian got angry with him when she caught him with “girls’ books.” 

So it wasn’t until he was able to get home to find out what was going on. 

“A period is something that happens to prove you can have babies,” Stanley said, hugging a pillow to her stomach and laying on her side on the couch. “Your insides literally puke out of your stupid vagina to say ‘hey! we’re ready for babies! have a baby to keep this from happening!’ and it’s evil and God’s stupid for making this happen.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Ford asked. “And how’d you get the bleeding to stop?” 

“I’m wearing a pad. It feels like a stupid diaper, and it has this stupid belt thing that’s complicated and I hate it. I hate this so much.” 

Looking back on this as an adult, Ford realized he should’ve known how his twin felt from that very moment. Maybe even earlier. But in the moment, Ford hadn’t known what to make of what Stanley said next. 

“I don’t want to be a woman. I hate being a girl. I hate all of this. I wish… . I wish I was like you.” 

Ford and Stanley had always played together. Stanley’s interests, while on the less intellectual side of things, still meshed well with his own. 

“You are like me. You’re my twin, aren’t you?” Ford said, trying to cheer her up. “Hey, why don’t I make hot chocolate?” 

“You’re not allowed to use the stove, stupid.” 

“We’ll see about that.”

Stanley’s period lasted six days. Six days of waking up in the morning, having to change the sheets and pants and underwear because Stanley had bled through everything. It eventually petered off, but Stanley had been absolutely miserable and had had less energy to do things. She hurt four out of the six, and Ford was very much at a loss as to what to do. 

He also apparently wasn’t supposed to know what a period was and for some reason they both got into trouble whenever Ford opened his mouth to explain why she was in pain. 

Adults were stupid. Periods were stupid. The whole world was stupid.


	5. "Ma Blamed Me."

This was the only way to save the world, and his twin wouldn’t hold his hand. All Stanley had to do was hold his hand, why was Stanley - !?

“You want me to hold your stupid hand so this magic circle can somehow defeat a chaos god? You really want me to do that?” 

“Yes!” 

“Then tell me the truth.” 

“Sure, anything! About what?” 

“Am I helping you save the world as your brother? Or your sister?” 

Ford’s eyes widened. Was this really the time to be bringing this up!?

“Stanley, the world is about to end - !” 

“You’ve been avoiding talking it out since you got back! You haven’t even been consistent with pronouns or what you call me or anything! I’m not asking for acceptance, I’m asking for honesty - and I know that’s rich, coming from me! But it’s important, dammit! If you really can’t see me as anything than your twin sister, then fine, but don’t dodge around the issue!” 

“Stanley, I - does it really matter what I think? Why is what I think about your gender apparently so much more important than the end of the world?” 

“Do you have any idea how suffocating it is to not know if you can trust your own brother!? I’m sick and tired of thinking you’re warming up about it, just to have you throw it back in my face! I want you to stop jerking me around, or I don’t even see the point in - !” 

“O-okay! Okay! I’ll - I’ll be honest about it, just - please. Take my hand first.” 

Most members of the circle had no idea what was happening really and were very confused. But Dipper, Mabel, and Soos watched with worried eyes as Stan took hold of Ford’s hand. Soos squeezed Stan’s hand tightly in solidarity. Stan didn’t look at Soos, but he squeezed back to show he understood what his handyman was doing. 

As the circle did its thing, Ford talked. 

“Do you remember that really big fight we had when we were teenagers?” 

“The one after Dad found out about Carla?” 

“No, the … the one after that.” 

“Oh. Yeah?”

“And - and you remember what I said about treating you like a boy if you wanted that so badly?” 

“Get to the point, Ford.” 

“Ma blamed me.” 

“… You’ve lost me.” 

“For you getting hurt. She blamed me.” 

“… Ford, you know that was just my period, right? I hadn’t been taken my medicine, it had been a full year and a half of not having a period. So you punched me in the gut and jump-started it. So what? It was eventually gonna happen anyway, and it would’ve hurt just as much, if not more, and lasted just as long.”

There was a long silence. 

“It … was?” 

“Well, yeah… . What did Ma tell you?” 

Ford was starting to squeeze Stan’s hand really tightly. Everyone in the circle was staring at the two Stans, feeling a little uncomfortable at watching the old man start to tear up. 

Ford himself wasn’t looking at anyone. Just at the symbol on the ground. 

“I didn’t know what was happening. All I knew was that there was blood and you were in pain, and Ma said I had caused it, and I never, ever wanted to hurt you like that. It was just brawling, like we always did in boxing class, it wasn’t supposed to actually hurt you - !”

Stan remembered that his cramps had never, ever hurt that much ever in his entire life, and Stan remembered that it had seemed like the bleeding would never stop. He remembered crying and sobbing from the pain and the fear that he’d bleed to death. 

He hadn’t ever stopped to consider that their parents wouldn’t tell Ford what was happening. 

“Holy Moses, Stanford,” Stan said. “I thought - I thought they told you what was going on. It was just my period being a huge bitch ‘cause my ovaries weren’t working properly. It wasn’t your fault.” 

“I was so scared when they took you to the hospital, and Ma came back home angry, and she said if you didn’t come back, it would be my fault. And I don’t even know why I said it, ‘cause I didn’t even believe in any defense I could have, b-but I foolishly pointed out that we wouldn’t even have fought if you hadn’t been insisting you were a boy, and she said all your gender issues were my fault too - mine and Dad’s - and I just - ! No matter what I learned in college or from classmates or in my studies or even when learning about and discovering genders that don’t even exist in our dimension, I just couldn’t shake the thought that if you couldn’t somehow learn how to be a girl, that it would always be my fault if you got hurt. No matter - no matter how much I knew you hated it, how much I wanted to just let you be happy - !”

Ford had a death-grip on Stan’s hand, and Stan squeezed back just as tightly. 

“The only time I ever saw you really, really hurt was because of the gender issues, and I - I still have a really hard time letting myself accept that it’s because we tried to force you to be something you weren’t and not that we had made you devalue what you were. I don’t even know what I think you are, if I think you’re my sister or my brother - but you’re my twin. You’re my best friend. You’re my family.”

At some point, the rest of the parts of the circle were paying attention to what was happening to Bill Cipher and not the two old men. But Stan and Ford were entirely focused on each other. 

“I just don’t want you to get hurt - not by me or Dad or Ma or Weirdmageddon or anyone or anything else,” Ford concluded. “That’s the truth.” 

Stan let that process for a while, only now really registering that Bill was where the background unholy screaming was coming from. 

As the Rift started to close and suck all the other monsters back into it, Stan contemplated what Ford had said. 

He could work with this. 

“Thanks for being honest with me, Poindexter,” Stanley said. “I won’t give up on you if you don’t give up on me, okay?” 

“O-okay. But … what do you mean?” 

“If you trust me to know what’s good for me, I’ll be patient with you learning how to not hurt me. Deal?” 

Ford didn’t have to think twice about that. 

“Deal.” 

They were still holding each other’s hand, even after everyone else had let go and started hollering about their victory over Bill.


	6. "I don't know, think of something!"

“FILBRICK PINES!” 

Angela Pines did not yell. She did not scream. 

Normally. 

But she did when she was angry beyond imagination, and that was becoming all the more frequent now that their daughter, Stanley Angelica, had entered the double-digits. 

Filbrick leaned into view from the other side of the doorway into the kitchen from the living room. 

“Yes, cupcake?”

Suddenly, their twelve-year-old daughter was being shoved towards him, her arms crossed and a great frown on her face and cheeks flushed. 

“Do something with her! Anything! Just - get her out of my hair and actually spend some time with her!” 

Panic was set off in Filbrick’s heart, and he stammered for a moment.

“B-but what am I supposed to do?” 

“I don’t know, think of something!” 

And he heard his wife march out of the kitchen and down the hall to their bedroom. 

He looked down at Stanley, and Stanley looked like a little of her fight had gone out of her, but her mood certainly hadn’t improved any. Stanley stared back at him, and they just stared at each other for a while. 

Filbrick cleared his throat. 

“It’s about time to pick up your brother from boxing class.” 

Stanley stuffed her hands into her pockets and followed him out of the building and to the car. 

Filbrick had hoped that boxing would toughen Ford up a bit, make him more of a man. 

But as was confirmed when they got there, all he seemed to really do is get black-eyes and bruises. 

Some fights were still happening when they got there. Admittedly, Filbrick had come early just because he didn’t know what else to do with Stanley. 

Ford barely lasted a minute in the ring. 

“Ow…. Dad!? Stanley!?” 

“Hey, bro. You really had your butt handed to ya, there.” 

“What’re you doing here!?” 

Ford’s question didn’t get answered due to some of the snickering in the crowd of boys being loud enough for him and Stanley and Filbrick to hear it. 

“That sixth finger sure ain’t doin’ him any favors in the ring!” 

“What a loser!” 

“Stanley, no!” 

Stanley marched right over there and pulled on one of the kids’ shirts, then pulled her fist back and punched him right in the face. 

“Wanna say that again, you little punk!” 

Both Ford and Filbrick just stood there. Ford turned to his dad. 

“Why aren’t you stopping her?” 

“They’re boxers, if they can’t take her, they’re trash anyway.” 

“Yeowch.”

The fight, as a result, only stopped when the boxing instructor got between them and separated Stanley from them. The boxing instructor then pulled Stanley along as he walked over to Filbrick and Ford. 

“This your kid?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I’ll be frank. While I don’t condone fighting outside of the ring, that was one of the best left hooks I’ve ever seen. She enrolled anywhere?”

“Not for boxing.” 

“You should consider putting her in the class with her brother. She’d do well.” 

Filbrick looked down at Stanley. 

“You wanna fight with the boys?” 

At first, Stanley looked surprised that she was being asked at all. Then she answered quickly. 

“Yes, sir!” 

“All right, consider yourself enrolled.” 

He handled the money for classes for Stanley as well as Ford, and Stanley had an extra bounce in her step as they walked back to the car. 

“I’m gonna be boxing, too, Ford!” 

“Yeah. Great. My sister gets to beat me up, too.” 

“I’ll go easy on ya!” she teased. 

This would be good. Stanley would have an after-school activity to keep her out of Angela’s hair, and that’ll mean less yelling in the house and less moody children. 

Angela was not exactly happy that Stanley would be doing a “boys’ activity” but she didn’t put up a fuss. 

The boxing gloves and gear had made his daughter look happier than she had looked in quite a while.


	7. "Get Over It!"

Ford was standing in the living room, dressed in his formal suit and his kippah atop his head. He and Stanley were thirteen now. It was their bar and bat mitzvah today. 

And he could hear Stanley yelling with their mother over what she was going to wear. 

“YOU CAN’T WEAR PANTS, IT’S YOUR BAT MIZTVAH.”

“I’M NOT GOING IF I HAVE TO WEAR THAT UGLY THING!” 

“WELL, YOU CERTAINLY AREN’T GOING IN THAT - THAT - FASHION DISASTER!” 

“CARLA MCCORKLE LIKES IT!”

Carla had recently become Stanley’s best friend at school, and Ford honestly couldn’t have been happier that Stan had found a girl to talk to. But in this instance, hearing the name wasn’t a comfort. 

“TAKE IT OFF RIGHT NOW!” 

“NO!”

“ANGELICA PINES, I SWEAR TO - !” 

Filbrick was rubbing his temples, then stood up and marched over to the bedroom door. 

“STANLEY PINES, YOU CHANGE RIGHT NOW AND GET YOUR BUTT OUT HERE THIS INSTANT!”

“MAKE ME!” 

Ford could see Filbrick’s vein popping out of his forehead, and Ford ordinarily would’ve been afraid.

But they were this close to being late no matter when they left, and Ford had been looking forward to this for so long, he so desperately wanted to be a man, a real man, and Stanley was ruining it all because she didn’t want to wear a stupid dress.

Ford snapped before Filbrick could actually open the bedroom door. 

“FOR NEWTON’S SAKE, STANLEY, PUT THE DRESS ON AND GET OVER IT!” 

Stan didn’t yell at him after. It was eerily quiet after he had shouted that. 

Ford could hear her on the other side of the door, but a lot of the fight was gone. 

“B-but - ! But you wouldn’t like wearing it if you had to wear it!” 

“Duly noted,” Ford said, voice completely unsympathetic in his irritation and anxiety over being late. “Hurry up, we’re going to be late!”

Eventually, Stanley finally came out, her dress a bit wrinkled, but it would have to do. She was even wearing make-up that Ma obviously had done for her. 

She looked miserable. Any beauty that would’ve ordinarily come from the lipstick and blush and the formal wear was killed by the misery in her eyes and the intensity of her frown. 

Her mood didn’t improve when they arrived (just barely on time), and she stayed miserable even when the ceremony started. She had her verses memorized, but her voice wavered occasionally, and guilt poked and prodded at Ford. 

Not even the gifts cheered Stanley up, though she was still polite. 

The dress came off as soon as she reached her and Ford’s bedroom.

When Ford would wonder why he never found make-up attractive on anyone, he always thought back to watching Stanley wash it off in the vanity mirror they mostly used for finding and popping zits. 

When he’d wonder why high heels and dresses and lingerie didn’t appeal to him, he’d remember the frustration Stanley expressed when she ripped the zipper down and threw the high heels across the room and startled him greatly when she abruptly threw her bra onto the vanity table and beat her fists against it. 

His high school and college peers would think him so strange for not finding the naked female body attractive by default, but he genuinely couldn’t not think of Stanley being miserable in this very moment. He would never be able to think of breasts and bras and panties without thinking of Stanley, of how her underwear would get bloodstained and how much pain she would be in, of how she beat up her clothes, of how she…. 

But that was the future. In the moment, Ford had been torn between looking away and giving her privacy or going over to her to try to comfort her. 

In the end, he ducked out of the room after grabbing his pajamas, then went to the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. 

He found the bra with its underwire sticking out of it and torn in various places. It had to have been broken and torn by her own hands. 

Stanley was curled up on the bottom bunk. 

“Stanley?” 

She didn’t say anything. 

“Stanley, I … .” 

“Go away, Ford.” 

“It’s my room, too.” 

Stanley looked over her shoulder at him. 

“We’re adults now, Ford. Responsible for our own actions now. So I suggest you deal with it.” 

Ford stared at her as she turned her head back away from him. 

Then he grabbed a blanket and pillow, then headed for the living room. 

He couldn’t believe he was getting kicked out of his own room, but he supposed if she really didn’t want to look at him…. 

There was another part of him who felt she was being completely ridiculous. It was just a stupid dress. 

But the other part of him was guilty and sad over the fact that she was so upset by it. 

Ma caught him setting up camp in the living room, then sighed. 

“Get your things back up, you’re not sleeping there. You’ll catch cold.” 

As Ford and Ma approached the bedroom once more, Ford heard something he had never heard in his life, and would continue to not hear until he was well into high school. 

“Stanley, I’m proud of you,” Filbrick said. 

Ford stopped. It was as though his heart and breathing had stopped too. 

“I know that wasn’t easy for you to do, but it’s important to set things like that aside for family.”

Ma pushed him into the bedroom. Ford watched as Filbrick gently patted Stanley on the back. Stanley still refused to turn around. 

Filbrick then got up and left the room, not sparing Ford more than a glance. 

Envy burned deep inside Ford, and he struggled to keep it under control. 

He no longer felt bad for Stanley. 

He climbed up to the top bunk and glared at the ceiling.


	8. "Grunkle Stan, Help!"

Stan had known that Mabel and Dipper were twelve, and he wasn’t an idiot. He knew when puberty hit, but it wasn’t like he had asked if they had already had the talk or had already experienced their first you-know-whats. 

So while he knew what to do, he hadn’t exactly expected the first thing to greet him in the morning to be Dipper running into his bedroom and grabbing the front of his undershirt. 

“Augh! Dipper? What - ?” 

“Mabel! Bleeding! I don’t know what to do!” 

When Dipper first told him that, it hadn’t occurred to him that it wasn’t a cut or something. 

But then they got into the attic, and the sheets on the bed were bloodstained, and Mabel was hugging her tummy, and she looked uncomfortable in general. 

“Oh,” Stan said, knowing exactly what was happening. “Calm down, Dipper, your sister just had her period.” 

“My period!? Already!?” Mabel said. “B-b-but Mom’s not here!” 

“It’ll be okay. It’s not like I don’t know what to do. First, you get to the bathroom before you drip blood everywhere. Dipper, take the sheets off the bed and toss it into the hamper. I’ll call Wendy and have her bring pads with her, and I’ve got ibuprofen. After Wendy gets back and we get you a change of clothes, you can sit in the big arm chair with a heating pad.” 

Mabel went to the bathroom, door closed behind her but not locked. Stan then got the ibuprofen and fished around in Mabel’s bag for fresh underwear and clothes for her. He then called Wendy and told her he needed her to be early and to bring sanitary napkins for first-timers. He then knocked on the door. 

“Is it okay if I come in?” he asked. 

“One second,” Mabel said, then, “Now it is.” 

Stan opened the door, and Mabel had one of the towels over in her lap, hiding anything she didn’t want Stan to see. Which was perfectly understandable. 

“How long will Wendy take?” Mabel asked. 

“She’ll be here soon. She remembers what it’s like and won’t leave you hanging.” 

He gave Mabel the ibuprofen and filled her a glass full of water, then gave it to her. 

“What would you like for breakfast? You’re really gonna need food with that. Never take Advil without food.” 

“I dunno if I can eat anything right now….” Mabel said. “It hurts a lot.”

“I know, pumpkin. But I’ll let you eat whatever you want, even ice cream. Would you like that?” 

Mabel smiled a little bit. 

“Ice cream does sound good.” 

Stan smiled back. 

He heard the doorbell, then went to answer the door. Dipper had gotten there first, and Wendy’s arms were full of grocery bags. 

“She’s gonna want the kotex for now, but this is all in case her flow’s real heavy or if she just prefers tampons or needs tampons for the pool or exercising or -”

“She’s in the bathroom,” Stan said. 

Wendy headed straight for the bathroom, and Stan closed the door, then looked at Dipper. 

Stan had a bit of a flashback to Ford’s face when they had woken up one morning and Stan had been crying and the sheets had been dark with blood. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Your sister’s gonna be okay.” 

“But she said she was hurting.” 

“Yeah, cramps hurt. It varies from uterus to uterus, but they hurt regardless.” 

“But why was there blood?” 

“Did they give just your sister the talk or something?” 

“The what?” 

Stan sighed. 

“You know what a uterus is, right?” 

Dipper nodded. 

“It decided it was gonna shed its inner lining ‘cause her ovaries released an egg, and she’s too young to be having sex, so there was no baby made, so it had to throw it out. That’s what the blood all is, shedded uterus lining and unfertilized baby matter. And it’ll keep happening every month until Mabel either decides to have a baby, hits menopause, or develops a hormone imbalance. Or has those body parts removed one day. Whatever comes first, y’know?”

Dipper looked even more horrified. 

“That sounds horrible.” 

“Yeah. It kinda is,” Stan said, remembering things. 

Soon, Mabel emerged from the bathroom, dressed in her day clothes, and headed for the TV room. Stan got her set up with the heating pad, then went about getting her that ice cream for breakfast. He also let Dipper have some too, since the kid looked like he was going to be a worry-wort about the whole thing all day. 

“Is it always gonna feel this bad?” Mabel asked. 

She had probably been asking Wendy, but when Wendy looked like she was having a hard time finding the right words so she wouldn’t scare her, Stan stepped in. 

“I’m not gonna say that it’s not,” Stan said. “I’d be lying if I said there’s not a … history of bad periods in the family. And it’s not useful to lie to you about this. It’s your body, and it’s hurting, and it’s gonna be doing this every month until you get to be, like, my age. But it gets easier to deal with. You’ll learn what you can and can’t tolerate doing while on it, and you’ll learn how to notice that it’s coming on so you don’t ruin your good underwear. But as long as you have your ovaries and uterus, having a period is healthy for you. ‘Cause not having one means you’re at a higher risk of things like cancer. And few things hurt more than having a period after a long, long time of not having one. But you don’t have to like it, and while it’s necessary for you to have while you’re still growing, you can chuck that sucker out when you’re an adult if you want.” Another thought occurred to Stan. “But if you’re having pain here,” Stan put his hand just underneath the flab of belly fat, pressing against where his ovaries still were, “instead of here,” and he put his hand where menstrual pain typically was, “then tell me, because that’s not supposed to happen.”

Stan resolutely only stared at Mabel and Dipper as Mabel processed the information. The kids didn’t seem to think it was weird that Stan knew all of that. (Stan was going to have to fix what their parents had done regarding Dipper’s sex ed knowledge. Mabel must’ve known more than him, somehow, but it was criminal to tell one kid but not the other. What were they thinking? Or had Mabel just figured it out on her own?) 

He dared a glance at Wendy, and the teenager was staring at him as though she had never seen him before. 

“What?” Stan asked. 

“N-nothing. I, uh, I should go clock in and, uh, set up the register.” 

“Yeah. You do that,” Stan said, starting to feel like he had revealed too much in front of her. 

But the children were more important than that secret. 

Mabel’s health was far more important than anything Stan had to keep a secret about himself.


	9. Mystery Trio 1

Fiddleford walked up to Greasy’s Diner, having enjoyed the exercise it took to get there. Ford would need the car in order to get out here with everything he wanted to show his sister, anyway, and Fiddleford had needed to stretch his legs. 

Working with Stanford wasn’t always the easiest thing in the world, and it often meant lots of hours in the house without much physical exertion unless it involved lifting machinery. 

Fiddleford was very tired of lifting machinery, though he was rather surprised when Stanford had said that his sister would be able to lift whatever they needed, if she was willing to work with them. 

Now, Fiddleford was a firm supporter of a woman’s right to have whatever job she wanted and pursue whatever her interests were and all that, but he had been a little surprised to hear Ford’s sister was apparently a weight-lifter. 

Ford didn’t talk about her much; all Fiddleford really knew was that they had been really close when they were younger, but puberty happened, and something or other happened to make their parents ship her off to a camp that was supposed to help her. 

Fiddleford knew no other details. He didn’t know if Ford was older or younger or what his sister’s name even was. But Fiddleford could tell when Ford was thinking about her. He’d get rather sad and melancholy, and it was the few times when Ford wasn’t quite willing to work. 

But he was supposed to finally meet her at Greasy’s Diner with Ford today, and the time they were supposed to meet her was coming closer and closer. 

When Fiddleford arrived, he asked for a table for three and that his “mysterious scientist in the woods” friend and another would be joining him. Susan was happy to seat him at a booth, and he perused the menu as he waited. 

After Fiddleford had ordered a coffee, the door to the diner opened, and in came someone Fiddleford had never seen before. 

Fiddleford had done all the trips into town that he and Ford needed to be done, and Ford only occasionally came with him. So Fiddleford knew that Gravity Falls did not often get outsiders. So the moment Fiddleford saw that this was someone he hadn’t seen before, he had a feeling it was who he was waiting for. 

Except the man’s appearance didn’t really match what Ford had led Fiddleford to imagine. 

This was definitely a man who had entered the diner. He even had the beginnings of a beard. 

But the man looked an awful lot like Stanford, but had longer hair and was chubbier. 

“Hey, uh, table for -” 

“Oh! Are you meeting Mr. McGucket and his scientist friend?” 

“Uh….” 

Fiddleford stood up and walked over. 

“Is your last name Pines?” Fiddleford asked. 

The man looked over at Fiddleford, eyebrows raising. 

“Uh, yeah, it is. Stanley Pines.” 

“I’m Fiddleford McGucket, I work with Stanford Pines. You’re his brother?” 

“Yeah.” 

Fiddleford and Stanley shook hands, then Fiddleford brought him to the booth. 

“What’ll you have to drink, hon?” Susan asked. 

“Ah, coffee. Thanks.” 

“One coffee, coming right up!” 

Stanley got comfortable in the booth and looked over to him. 

“Sorry, Ford didn’t really tell me he was working with anybody else.” 

“That’s all right. He had told me we’d be meeting your sister, so I apologize for not already knowing who you were when you came in.” 

Stanley stared at Fiddleford for a while, then gave him a strained smile. 

“Right. Well, it’s just me. Angie … isn’t here.” 

Fiddleford tucked that information away in his head (Angie Pines, their sister was Angie Pines), then started to talk to Stanley about where he had come here from, what he did for a living, that kind of thing. 

He gathered several pieces of information: Stanley was a traveling salesman, he had come here after returning to the States from Columbia and then received contact from their father about Ford and needing a helping hand. Stanley had been to a few different countries, and he had just started to tell rather interesting stories about them when Ford entered the diner. 

“Ah, good, I thought that was your car in the parking lot,” Ford said as he reached the booth. 

From the door, Ford could only see the back of Stanley’s head. But when he walked around and sat on Fiddleford’s side of the booth, he got a good look at his brother. 

Fiddleford furrowed his eyebrows as Ford’s expression fell and was replaced by one of distress. 

“A-Angie, what did you do to yourself?” Ford said in a voice that sounded like he was trying hard to keep it as a certain, low volume. 

Stanley sighed. 

“Here I was hoping your buddy thought Angie was my name because of Ma.” 

“B-but it is your name, your middle one -” 

“And since when do you call me by my middle name?” 

“But, but - !” 

“Glad you’re all here! What would you like to drink, eat, and would anyone like refills?” 

“I’ll take more coffee and a burger,” Stanley said. 

“Would you like fries with that?” 

“Yes please.”

“I’ll have the chicken and waffles, please,” Fiddleford said, though he felt Susan had bad timing. 

“Gravy and syrup with that?” 

“Yes, thank you.” 

“I - I’ll have a coffee,” Ford said. “J-just a coffee.” 

“Stanford, you haven’t had breakfast and it’s one in the afternoon. Order something,” Fiddleford said sternly. 

“He’ll have a burger with fries, too,” Stanley said. “Do those come with added stuff on ‘em? Like cheese or - ?” 

“Sure do! What would you like on ‘em?” 

“Cheese and bacon on mine. You, Ford? Do you still eat kosher?” 

“N-no. I’ll have that too,” Ford said. 

Once Susan was gone, their conversation renewed. 

“Long story short, I had some medical procedures done, I still go by Stan, and I’ll be introducing myself as your brother, nothing else. If that’s a problem, I’ll just go ahead and leave and you can find someone else you to help you with your science project.” 

Ford didn’t say anything to that, but he looked rather … distressed. 

Fiddleford wasn’t going to ask about what these medical procedures were, and he … felt like he knew enough about what was going on and that he didn’t need to press the matter. 

Unlike Stanford, Fiddleford had known quite a few people in college. He had had many friends, many of whom did social justice work for their respective causes and some who were considered minorities who just tried to live as best they could. 

Fiddleford was aware of what a transsexual was, and from what Stanley had said, it sounded like he was a full-time one. 

And it seemed like it had caused some problems. 

Fiddleford thought back to what Ford had said about a “camp that was supposed to help,” and Fiddleford swallowed rather hard as he realized what that meant exactly. 

“So Stanford says you’re able to lift quite a lot of weight at one time,” Fiddleford said, getting into the business end of things. 

“Yup. Also can build things, as long as you tell me exactly where everything needs to go. I can’t design worth a crap, but tools I’m good with.” 

“That’s good,” Fiddleford said. “I may be an engineer and a bit scrappy myself, but you seem to have quite a bit more muscle to work with.” 

Stanley smirked a bit. 

“Just from lookin’ at you, I’d have to agree,” Stanley said. 

Fiddleford smiled back. 

“So what are your other qualifications for a ‘scientist’s assistant’?” 

Stanley got into telling a tale about a situation with a former boss, and there were parts to the story that sounded off or like Stanley wasn’t telling the whole story, but in terms of teamwork, skills, and work ethic, Fiddleford felt like they were up to expectations. 

Their food then arrived, and Fiddleford had already come to a decision. If Ford and Stanley were all right with it … . 

Fiddleford encouraged conversation that included Ford, and eventually he got both of them to talk, to interact with each other. Ford flipflopped between ‘Angie’ and ‘Stanley’, and Fiddleford could tell that using either one was causing some distress, though it was clear that the use of the name Angie was making both of them uncomfortable. 

At the end of the meal, Fiddleford took out his wallet. 

“Well, if you still want to, Stanley, I would love it if you could work with us. I think you’d be a great fit.” 

Stanley watched Ford for a minute. 

“I’ll work for you if you call me Stanley or Stan and nothing else,” Stanley said. 

Fiddleford watched Ford. Ford took a deep breath.

“All right, Stanley. I can do that.” 

“Well, I guess I’m on board then!” 

They drove Stanley to the house after Fiddleford paid the bill, and Fiddleford paused as he realized the two siblings weren’t following him down to the basement. He turned around and went to see where they went, then stopped in the doorway to the living room. 

Ford was hugging Stanley, and Stanley was hugging him back. Fiddleford could hear Ford crying, though he couldn’t make out what he was saying. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m okay,” Stanley said. “No one’s sick or hurt or dying, and I’m happier this way. It’s okay.” A pause, with more sobs from Ford. “I missed you, too, Poindexter.”

Fiddleford chose to let them have their moment. Their issues would no doubt take a long time to sort out. But it was clear Ford cared about his sibling; Fiddleford had never had a moment where he felt like Ford didn’t care. He had faith that they’d be able to work it out.


	10. Ford's First Lesbian?

They were fifteen, and Ford and Stan knew better than to ask Filbrick for money. 

And yet that didn’t stop Stanley from speaking up over dinner. 

“Pa?” 

“Mmhm?” 

“Carla McCorkle and I were thinking about going to a movie. Can I have some change?” 

“No,” Filbrick said immediately, without even thinking about it. 

“Filbrick,” Ma said; Ford had noticed that ever since Stanley had started hanging around Carla, she had been very encouraging of Stanley going off to do whatever she wanted. A stark contrast to how things normally were, and Ford knew it was because Carla was a girl and supposedly would encourage Stan to embrace her femininity. “Is anyone else going? Perhaps a boy or two?” 

“Ma,” Stan said, making a face. 

“I’m just saying, two attractive young ladies like yourself, it’d be understandable -” 

“It’s just me and Carla. No one else.” 

Ford continued to chew, though a thought occurred to him. 

“Doesn’t Carla have a boyfriend now?” 

“Huh?” 

“Oh, does she?” Ma said, her face brightening up. 

Stanley was glaring at Ford like she’d rather he shut up. 

“I’ve just heard rumors, but you would know better than anybody,” Ford said, looking at Stanley. 

“She’s just been hanging out with me,” Stan insisted. 

It would be understandable if random passers-by mistook Stanley for a boy. She wore her hair short, had much more muscle than a girl typically did, and she had absolutely refused to shave the scraggly beard hair that had started growing in when they were thirteen-and-a-half. It was mostly noticeable because her hair was brown; Ford didn’t think anyone would’ve detected it at all if it had been a lighter color. 

But everyone at school knew Stanley from before. It was a small town in their pocket of New Jersey, and everyone seemed to know each other. And Carla definitely knew Stanley was a girl. They had known each other for a few years at this point. 

And this rumor definitely started at school. 

Ford just shrugged. 

“That’s not what the rest of the school thinks.” 

“They don’t know shit.” 

“Language,” Filbrick said. 

“Why don’t we give you money for both you and your brother, and Ford goes with you? We can’t have two young ladies out at night by themselves, after all,” Ma said. 

“Pffft. More like you’re giving me two people to look after,” Stanley said, and Ford flushed as Filbrick snorted. 

“She’s got a point,” Filbrick said. 

“I can take care of myself!” Ford said. “And - and what if you need back-up?” He wasn’t going to even try to argue that he could protect Stanley. Stanley didn’t need protecting when she could beat up literally the entire boxing team. 

“What, like a gang is gonna jump us or something? She’s not THAT hot.” 

“I don’t know! Crampelter’s got friends. I don’t know.” 

Ford genuinely didn’t know what he was talking about. He was grasping at straws, but the mention of Crampelter seemed to strike a chord. 

“Do I actually get the money if I take the nerd with me?” Stan asked. 

Filbrick sighed and forked the money for two for a movie over. 

And that was how Ford found himself in the Stan-Mobile, sitting in the back with Stan at the wheel and Carla riding shotgun, on their way to the movies. Stan and Carla talked about a variety of things, mostly gossiping and trash-talking other girls in Carla’s dance class. 

When they got to the theatre, Stanley made a show of checking the venue out. 

“Oh look! No shady bastards waiting to jump out and grab us! Who’da thunk it!” 

Ford flushed. “Hey, the main reason we got to even come out is because of what I said.” 

“I was going to come anyway. You are the one who would’ve stayed home. I’d’ve just tried to talk Carla into asking her dad for more dough.” 

Carla’s father was the principal, and Ford knew the principal wasn’t really a fan of the Pines family in general, so he doubted that would’ve worked, but he wasn’t going to argue. 

They went to see the same movie, but Stan made Ford sit elsewhere in the theatre. Ford begrudgingly agreed, but only because he “didn’t want to listen to their girly commentary.”

The theatre was oddly empty, with only a couple other people in the theatre. So when Ford started hearing kissing noises just underneath the audio of the movie, it had been rather distracting. 

Assuming that it was the other two people in the theatre, he turned his head to look at them, but then he realized that they were sitting much too far apart. And one was asleep. The other one hadn’t seemed to notice the kissing sounds at all. 

Ford stuck a finger into his ear and tried to rid it of earwax. There was no way he was hearing right. Right? 

Checking to make sure it really wasn’t the only other two people in the theatre, Ford carefully got up and crept closer to where Stan and Carla were further down in the audience. He stopped when he could get a better look at them, but could easily hide if for some reason they looked around. 

And he had heard right. His sister was making out with her best friend, just barely out of sight of the other movie goers. Ford, his anxiety spiked, double-checked the awake other audience member. They genuinely seemed to not have noticed what Ford had noticed. 

In order to keep them from having their attention drawn over to Stan and Carla, Ford made it look like he had simply been wanting to change his seat and sat down. 

He kept his eyes on the movie, but his brain was far from it. 

His sister was … a lesbian? He knew what that was, but he hadn’t ever really … thought that … . But he supposed it made sense. Stanley was very … butch. Very, very butch. Maybe that’s why she was so against girly things. 

Though Carla was very feminine and apparently was also a lesbian…. Though he swore he had listened to her talk about men in the past. Or maybe that was all an act…. 

Maybe she was telling people she had a boyfriend when it was actually Stanley Angelica Pines, and when strangers who knew her but not Stanley saw them walking around, they actually thought Stanley was a boy? Maybe that was how it had gotten started, maybe it had started outside of school…. 

Ford didn’t really know, and then the movie ended, and Ford got up and moved for the lobby before Stanley and Carla had really moved to get up. He waited for them at the theatre entrance, then walked through the lobby with them. 

The conversation on the car ride back got weird. At least, it hadn’t been a conversation Ford had ever been privy to, and it certainly hadn’t seemed like something that would’ve been brought up between Carla and Stan. 

Ford was familiar with the concept of feminism due to how much reading he did and the fact that he paid attention to the news, but listening to two girls argue about it was much different than reading newspaper articles. 

“I don’t get why you’re so against it!” Carla said. “I’d think you’d be all for women getting to do whatever they wanted and get paid properly for it! You do your boxing - !” 

“I’m not against that, of course I’m not! The basic stuff they’re fighting for, yes, I want that, too, but some of those women are real jerks! You read what they said about - !” 

“Stanley, they’re just trying to advocate for safe spaces for women and trying to encourage women who are confused to embrace who they are instead of rejecting it and -” 

“Shut up!” 

Stan slammed on the break, and Ford had to grab hold of the seat to prevent flying forward into the front seats. 

“Stanley?” Carla asked. 

“Shut up! Just - shut up!” 

Stanley gripped tightly onto the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white. 

“Um,” Ford spoke up. “What’s going on?” 

He didn’t get a response. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you, Stanley, I … .” Carla said, but whatever she was going to finish it with, Ford never learned. 

“You’re lucky I don’t feel comfortable letting you walk home tonight,” Stanley muttered as she started to drive again. 

The rest of the ride was silent until they dropped Carla off. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow at school, okay?” Carla said. 

“Yeah,” Stanley said gruffly. 

Ford moved to shotgun and strapped himself in with the seat belt. He much preferred the seats with seat belts. They sat there for a while longer, Stanley glaring through the windshield. 

“Stanley?” Ford asked. 

“I wish Crampelter had showed up. Punching him in the face would’ve been fun.” 

Ford chose not to say anything about that. He was glad Crampelter hadn’t been there. He hadn’t … improved any, really. And if Crampelter had found out about Stan and Carla … . 

“I’m not confused,” she added, and Ford wasn’t sure what it meant. 

“If you say so. I … still don’t know what we’re talking about,” Ford admitted. 

Stanley seemed to lose some of her anger at that. 

“Right…. Doesn’t matter.” 

Stanley then drove them home. 

Stanley ignored Ma when she asked how the movies were, and Ford tried to explain that she and Carla had had a fight, but obviously he left out the parts that would’ve gotten her or Carla in trouble. 

“What about?” 

“I don’t really know. Girl stuff.” 

And Ford quickly followed Stanley back to their room. Stanley had already gotten into her pajamas - a white shirt and boxers she had stolen from Ford at some point and Ford didn’t like them enough to take them back - and was punching her pillow. 

The next day, Ford sought Carla out and tried to ignore the giggles and snide comments he heard from her friends. He knew he was the undesirable nerd. He knew they thought it funny he had six fingers on each hand. 

“Hey, Carla?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I was wondering. Those readings you and Stanley were talking about. Is there any chance I could borrow them?” 

Carla ended up giving Ford magazines Ford never, ever would’ve seen in his house or anywhere within a five mile radius of their house. Ford wondered where she had got them, but as he consumed the feminist reading material, he felt like he better understood Carla. 

Carla was a rebel in the making, he had known that already, but this gave him better insight to what that rebellion would look like. And it was fascinating. 

And he agreed that this kind of change would be good for Stanley. 

Stan stubbornly did not talk to Carla for a few days, but after a while, they were back to normal.


	11. Mystery Trio 2

Essentially the moment that Stanley had moved in properly, Ford had made a decision that he would do his absolute best to use the right pronouns and words and everything. 

As hard as it had been in the past (and during that terrible interview he and Fiddleford had done with him), nothing was harder than living without knowing that his twin was alive and safe and happy. 

He wanted Stanley to be happy and safe, and he was safest at home, with family. 

When it was just him, Stanley, and Fiddleford, Ford ended up doing quite well when it came to proper pronouns and such. 

In front of other people, however….. 

“Thank you for coming over to fix the leak, Dan,” Ford said, leading Dan into the kitchen. He pointed at where the roof had started to “leak.” Dan raised an eyebrow. 

“This isn’t a leak, this is a hole in the ceiling.” 

Ford laughed nervously. 

Stan then walked into the room in a shirt that looked like he had stolen it from Ford’s room. 

“Oh, hey, Ford. And … ?” Stanley said. 

“Stanley, this is Dan, the man who built the house and local lumberjack. Dan, this is Stanley, my si-” 

Dan raised an eyebrow at the look of sheer panic that ended up coming onto Ford’s face. 

“iiiibblliiing. My sibling. My brother, actually. Stanley is my brother, my - my twin younger brother, I have two, Shermie is - Shermie’s - not here, and neither am I, you should really work on that hole in the ceiling, so I’ll get out of your hair, bye.” 

And Ford ducked out of the room. 

Dan looked at Stanley. Stanley rolled his eyes. 

“You wanna beer?” he asked. 

Dan smiled a bit. “Sure.”


	12. Mystery Trio 3

When Ford and Fiddleford came up from the basement, they heard laughter in the kitchen and found Stanley and Dan laughing over something one of them had said. 

The hole was fixed, and quite a few open cans of beer were sitting on the table now. 

“Oh my god - Ford, you didn’t tell me about you becoming an exorcist!” Stan said, still laughing through his words. 

“I’m not an exorcist, per se, I just happened to know how to get rid of a ghost,” Ford said. 

“And horribly embarrass yourself while doing it,” Stan said. 

“Hey!” 

The two men laughed more. 

Fiddleford handed writing Dan his check, then handed it to him. 

“Will you be able to drive home all right?” Fiddleford asked. 

“Didn’t drive,” Dan said, standing up and pocketing the check. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Stanley.” 

“Back at ya.”

As Ford and Fiddleford saw Dan out, Fiddleford leaned over to Ford. “Wait, did he carry all of his equipment with him, then?” 

Ford shrugged. “He’s a strong man.”

A couple weeks after that, Dan actually showed up without being called for first. Stan had opened the door. 

“Hey! So, uh, me and the guys always go drinking on Friday nights, and I was wondering if you wanted to come with,” Dan asked. 

“Yeah, sounds fun. Hey, Ford! Fiddlenerd! You wanna join?” 

“Busy with calculations, Stanley!” Ford called. 

“Same, but you have fun! Call us if you need to be picked up,” Fiddleford said. 

“Will do!” 

Stanley was gone for most of the evening, and it soon became a weekly outing for him. 

Neither Ford nor Fiddleford thought anything of it until Stanley didn’t come home until morning one day and had red-and-purple marks peppered on the left side of his neck, not at all covered by the white T-shirt he wore while he helped them build the portal.


	13. Mystery Trio 4

Fiddleford Hadron McGucket was a married man. He had a five-year-old, and both wife and son were going to be moving up to Gravity Falls now that his work with Stanford and Stanley was taking longer than expected. He was sure his wife and son would like life up here. It was rural enough that it felt nostalgic to Fiddleford, and it was close to a lake. He looked forward to the day when Tate was old enough for fishing. It was a pastime he greatly wanted to share with his son. 

When he had learned that Stanford had a sister, he had had no concerns about that interfering with his work or his marriage. 

When he learned that Stanford’s sister was actually his brother, he still had had no concerns. Bisexuality did not indicate any increased likelihood that one would cheat, and an interest in multiple genders did not mean that he found his wife any less attractive. 

Not that his wife knew he was bisexual, but that was another matter entirely. 

And then It Happened. 

And when It Happened, Fiddleford realized that it had not been a (love) crush at first sight, but a steady development that he merely had not noticed until that point. 

It had been late at night, and Fiddleford normally was the first one to head to bed, but his stomach was growling instead of his eyes getting heavy. Ford was still down in the basement, working on calculations, as they always did when Stan went out for one of his nights out with Dan Corduroy. 

Fiddleford was working on making a sandwich (squirrel meat with mayo - he was the only one who’d eat it, so it was guaranteed to still be there when he wasn’t looking) when the front door opened abruptly, then slammed shut. 

Downstairs was sound-proof, so Fiddleford knew that Stanford hadn’t heard it. 

Fiddleford looked up and watched as Stanley stormed further into the house. 

In the darkness, it was hard to see, but he could hear him sniffling. Fiddleford stood up, abandoning his sandwich, and went towards Stanley. 

“Stanley? Are you all right?” 

Another sniff. Stanley paused in the hallway. 

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I … you don’t have to worry about me.” 

“Did something go wrong at the bar?” 

“N-not at the bar. I’m fine, though.”

Fiddleford hesitated, knowing that if he continued to press, Stanley would get stubborn and not tell him anything and probably just get angry. Both twins tended to do that. 

So instead, Fiddleford said, “Have you ever gone stargazing?” 

“Huh? Uh…. A little, yeah.” 

“I believe Saturn is supposed to be visible at around 3am…. If you’d be interested, that’s in a few hours.” 

“Uh…. S-sure. Yeah, that … that actually sounds cool.” 

Within a few minutes, Fiddleford had gotten out the telescope, and he and Stanley were standing in the front yard of the house. The telescope was aimed high. The trees made things slightly difficult, but it wasn’t so bad. 

While they waited for 3am, Fiddleford pointed out where all the constellations were. 

It certainly did cheer Stanley up. Stanley always said he wasn’t all that interested in science, but Fiddleford had not too long ago clued in that Stanley was more afraid of being seen as stupid than actually having a lack of interest. Knowing that Stanley had been viewed as a woman for so long during his schooling years, Fiddleford knew exactly why that had been. He probably hadn’t been taken seriously in school by anybody, especially since junior high and high school had been when he started trying to present himself as his real gender. 

It Happened when Stanley was looking through the telescope at Saturn after Fiddleford had locked onto it. He watched as Stanley’s face broke out into a smile. Fiddleford felt his face growing hot and his breath taken away. 

“Oh my gosh, I can actually see its rings! Fiddlenerd, I can see its rings! Holy shit!” 

He was beautiful in the moonlight. 

“Oh fiddlesticks,” Fiddleford whispered, realizing what was happening to him. 

He had a wife and a five-year-old son who were moving up to Gravity Falls so he could work on the portal with Stanford. 

And here he was, (falling in love) having a crush on his employer’s twin brother.


	14. Jimmy 1

Jimmy remembered the last time he had seen Stanley. Long hair, small breasts that were still fantastic to look at and caress, and a little bit of facial hair that had always been a sore topic between them. 

He wasn’t entirely sure what he had been expecting when he arrived at the Mystery Shack. The yellow pages said that a Stan Pines worked and lived here, but he was going on a limb on whether or not it was the same Stanley Pines. There was no telling, really, how many people had the last name Pines and also were named Stan. And Stan could be short for Stanley or Stanford or who knew what else. 

When the door opened, a small girl opened the door. Jimmy’s eyebrows flew up at how much she looked like Stanley in the face. 

“Hi! Who’re you?” 

“I’m … I was wondering if a Stanley Pines lived here?” 

“Yeah! Grunkle Stan! It’s for you!” 

“Grunkle?” 

“Yeah! It’s short for Great Uncle!”

“Who is it?” yelled a gruff, deep-voiced man. 

“Some biker dude with a kitty bandana!” 

Jimmy heard the bumping around of someone who was suddenly in a hurry. Then Stan Pines stood in the doorway behind the little girl. 

Jimmy didn’t recognize Stan. But he saw recognition in this old man’s face, and that alarmed Jimmy. 

He knew that Stanley had had … issues with gender and gender presentation back in the day, but he had rather clumsily handled the situation, choosing to be placating and easy-going about it but thinking that Stanley would eventually mellow out on the feminine side of things. 

“The heck are you doing out here, Jimmy?” Stan asked, though his voice wasn’t angry. 

Jimmy didn’t think he was forgiven for what he had said, but the lack of anger and disdain in Stan’s voice and eyes made Jimmy less nervous. 

“I was in the area, and I thought I’d … see if you were here.” 

There was an awkward silence between them, and it was only broken by the little girl. 

“Hi! I’m Mabel!” 

Jimmy and Stan looked down at her, then they both laughed. 

“And I’m Jimmy. Jimmy Snakes.” 

“How do you know Grunkle Stan?” 

“We used to drive around together.” 

“All right, ya little gremlin, go help your brother with the laundry.” 

“Aww!” 

“Now, missy.”


	15. Soos

When the word fell from Soos’s mouth, Stanley didn’t know what to say. 

“What’d you just say?” Stan asked, jaw slack from surprise and eyes wide. 

“I, uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean -” Soos stammered, fifteen-years-old and already needing a bigger-sized work shirt than he did a few months ago. He was trembling on the spot, having realized what he had called Stan and was worried about Stan’s reaction. 

“No, I - I just didn’t hear it. Y’know, old man ears and all that….” Stan said, partially lying. 

“I - I misspoke and called you Dad. I’m sorry, I know you’re not my -” 

“That - that’s okay, kid.” 

The emotions welling up in his chest were strange. Emotions he wasn’t used to. 

He knew no one in town had a reason to see him as anything other than a man. He knew no one in town knew. He knew Soos didn’t know. 

He remembered his own old man and how he had swallowed so much pain because Filbrick said he was proud of him and that he had to swallow his pain and pride for the family. 

He had never thought anyone would ever call him Dad. The idea of being called “Mom” or “Mother” had always made his skin crawl. 

“Are - are you okay, Mr. Pines?” 

“Y-yeah, I - yeah.” 

“Then … why are you crying?” 

“What?” 

Stan lifted his hand and wiped at his cheek. Yes, it was damp. 

“Oh, that’s nothing. You know, it’s allergy season. People’s eyes do that when it’s allergy season.” 

“Oh, right. So, uh, you’re not upset? Or mad?” 

“No, no. It’s fine, Soos. Just don’t make a habit of it, okay?” 

“Of course, Mr. Pines!” 

“All right, now get back to work.”


	16. Jimmy 2

Jimmy quickly determined that both children and Stan’s employees saw Stan as a man. Stan was “Mr. Pines” and “old man” and “Grunkle Stan.” 

Jimmy had no problem with playing along, but he very much still remembered the pretty young thing laying beside him in the motel beds, a firecracker on good nights and temperamental hell-beast on bad nights. He remembered mornings of taking the time to braid Stan’s hair and giving the newbies to the gang a heads-up that Stan didn’t like being treated like a girl. 

Stan sometimes did get mistaken for a dude on the road back then, and Jimmy had taken advantage of that at times if he considered the environment to be dangerous. 

He just had never thought that he’d be seeing Stan as an actual dude before now. 

But the person in front of him was definitely a man. Full of body hair and beard scruff and a deep, deep voice. Deeper than Jimmy remembered. 

If it wasn’t for Stan proving that they had the same memories of each other, Jimmy would’ve thought he had gotten the wrong house. 

When they were definitely alone in the kitchen, Stan asked, “So what brings you here?” 

“I … I kinda need a favor, but I understand if you don’t want to help.” 

Stan’s expression was rather blank, unreadable. He hated that. 

It used to be so easy to read Stan’s face, even if he didn’t understand why Stan had been angry. 

In hindsight, things that Jimmy had reasoned away with the thought of PMS and women’s attitudes and issues might not have been those things at all. Jimmy … Jimmy might’ve been a bigger asshole back then than he realized. 

“What kind of a favor?” Stan asked. 

Jimmy opened his mouth, but his voice stalled. 

“It doesn’t matter right now. It can wait. So … how did … you really changed.” 

Stan snorted. 

“Cigarettes and drinking will do that to you. And a mastectomy. And hormones that never worked like the doctors said they were supposed to.” 

But maybe they were working properly after all, was the unspoken statement, and Jimmy found himself partially agreeing. 

Though he remembered the pain the menstrual cramps and ovaries had caused, and he wouldn’t have wished that on anyone, let alone the one he loved. 

Stanley Angelica Pines had been the one who had gotten away, and Jimmy had slept with plenty of women after him, but none of them had really captured his heart like Stan had. 

“You on the other hand haven’t changed all that much. Never took you as the type to dye your hair,” Stan said. 

“Well, about that….” 

Jimmy took his sunglasses off. Stan sucked in a breath. 

“That … that’s new.” 

“It’s a long story.” 

“I got time.”


	17. "You're Not Alone."

Stan knew Mabel was having another sleepover, but he had expected that the girls would’ve known better about locking the bathroom door when it was occupied. 

He was going to have Soos check the lock in the morning just in case it was just not working. It wouldn’t do to have another accident. 

Stan opened the door, and he had immediately started to close it again and staying outside before the shouting started. 

“I’m in here!” Grenda declared, her voice booming. 

“I noticed!” Stan said, closing the door firmly. “Why didn’t you lock it?”

“I thought I did!” 

Stan sighed. 

While Stan hadn’t really seen anything, he had noticed that Grenda was standing up to pee. 

He wasn’t going to mention anything about it though. 

He stood there and waited, then Grenda came out after washing her hands, shoulders hunched and looking sheepish. 

“Hey, uh, I’m sorry about that,” Stan said. “Never woulda opened it if I knew you were in there.” 

“Yeah. I really thought I locked it….” 

Grenda and Stan stood there awkwardly. 

“Y-you didn’t … see anything, did you?” 

“Nah, not really,” Stan said. 

More awkward silence. 

“You’re not gonna tell Mabel and Candy, are you?” 

Stan sighed. 

“‘Course not, kiddo. That’s your business, and I’d be one hell of a hypocrite if I outed you.” 

Grenda looked up at him when he said that. He gave her a smile. 

“The twins don’t know, and neither does anyone else in town,” Stan said. “So this is just between you and me, all right? Just know that you’re not alone.” 

“Right, Mr. Pines,” Grenda said, smiling. 

Grenda then ran off back to Mabel’s room. Stan then went into the bathroom to do his business. 

Stan thought about how Grenda’s parents must be really supportive, regardless of how they felt about it, and Stan told himself that he shouldn’t be jealous. It was good. He was happy for her. 

It was good to have parents who loved you no matter what. 

And he hoped that Grenda would have friends who would stay by her side no matter what. 

He had a good feeling that Mabel would be one of them, though it could be that he just couldn’t imagine Mabel doing anything hurtful to people she cared about. But people could surprise you. 

He wanted Mabel - and Dipper - to be better than that so badly. But he wasn’t willing to risk losing them to find out.


	18. Jimmy 3

Jimmy and his biker gang was literally the best thing to happen to Stanley after he and Rick ditched the conversion camp and went their separate ways. (Rick was now pregnant and had a girlfriend to get back to, after all. And a bunch of science fiction babble Stan didn’t really understand.) 

It was supposed to just be drunken fun, but what started out as jokes and playing around and laughing stopped abruptly when Stan felt a very sudden tug on his jeans. 

Stan wasn’t sure when his belt had loosened, but he did notice that his jeans fell completely down, and he felt his face heating up. 

He still wore the panties he had taken with him to the conversion camp because he honestly hadn’t had the money or the time to buy anything new. Everything he had that was “new” clothes was shit he had filched from others. There was no way he was wearing used underwear. 

But the underwear was clearly women’s underwear, and there was no bulge to speak of, and Stan quickly tugged his shirt down to try to cover himself, but the damage was already done. 

Jimmy’s sunglasses had been perched precariously on his forehead, but they fell from their perch and hit the end of his nose. His eyes were wider than the others. 

“K-Kitten?”

Stan quickly grabbed his jeans and pulled them back up, then buckled his belt as he started to hurry out of the bar. He’d go somewhere else, get a different motel, anything - ! 

“S-Stanley! Wait! Stanley!” Jimmy called after him, but that just made Stan run faster. 

Eventually, Jimmy caught up to him and grabbed his arm, and Stan flinched, screwing his eyes shut, waiting. 

“Honey wasp, I ain’t gonna hurt ya,” Jimmy said, his voice softer than he was expecting. Stan opened his eyes and looked up at Jimmy. His sunglasses were now hanging off of his shirt collar instead. “I’m just - surprised is all. Certainly explains why you’re so private, though. And why you do look kinda girly.” 

Stan’s face burned red. 

“My name really is Stanley,” Stan found himself saying. “My pa named me and my brother.” 

Jimmy moved his hand to Stan’s shoulder and squeezed it gently. 

“Why were you hidin’ the fact that you’re - ?” 

“I’m not. I’m not a girl,” Stan said, tensing. If he was just being nice because he had misunderstood…. “Do ya get it?” 

Jimmy stared at him confused, and Stan knew he didn’t. 

“And you can’t change that about me. A lot of people have already tried. So if that’s not okay with you -” 

“If you wanna really leave, that’s fine by me, but I’m not letting you drive drunk. At least stay with the crew for the evening and sleep it off, okay?” Jimmy said. 

“You’d … let me stay and let me just be me?” 

“Well, who else would you be, darlin’?” 

Stan hugged Jimmy abruptly, hiding his tears in Jimmy’s chest. Jimmy wrapped his arms around him and held him firmly but gently. 

“You’ll always have a home with me, kitten.” 

Stan tried really hard not to cry.


	19. Mystery Trio 5

“But how would we draw a Manotaur out?” Ford asked aloud. Dan Corduroy had refused to come with them after telling them about the monstrous beasts he had found in the woods. He was very afraid, and that did make Ford nervous, but science would prevail. 

“Good question,” Stan said, opening his pack of beef jerky and stuffing a piece into his mouth. 

Ford grimaced. “I can’t believe you eat that stuff.” 

“It’s good for you,” Stan said. 

“Can I have some?” Fiddleford asked. 

Stan handed over the package and allowed Fiddleford to put his hand into the package and take a piece of jerky. Fiddleford chewed it for a moment. 

“Eh, I‘ve had better,” Fiddleford said. 

“More for me then,” Stan said. 

Then they heard it. Wildlife rushed past them. Fiddleford tensed, gripping onto his hunting rifle more tightly. (Ford had been surprised Fiddleford even had a hunting rifle.) Ford had his journal at the ready, and Stan closed up the packet of jerky and got into a fighting stance. 

Soon, the Manotaur came upon them, towering over them and three times as muscly as Stanley. 

Ford was starting to think this might have been a bad idea after all. 

“HEY!” the Manotaur shouted. Fiddleford and Stanley were at the ready. The Manotaur pointed at them. “Are you gonna finish that jerky?” 

They relaxed and stared at him. Stanley pulled the jerky back out. 

“This called you over?” Stan asked. 

“Yup! I love jerky! It’s the manly snack!” 

“The plan was to finish the package myself,” Stan said, “but I’d be willing to let you have it if you did something for me.”

And that was how all three of them were able to get into the Man Cave. But outside of very basic details Ford could gather from the space itself and how the Manotaurs were interacting with each other, they weren’t able to get much information out of them. 

“We Manotaurs do not typically share our secrets. We will have to deliberate,” Chutzpar said. 

Chutzpar, Pituitaur, Beardy, and a bunch of the others all got into a circle to discuss and somehow that discussion turned into a brawl. Stanley started chanting his encouragements for them to fight, and it got them all up in a kerfuffle. Ford and Fiddleford shrunk back, hoping to just stay out of it and not get beaten up or caught in the crossfire. 

Suddenly, the fighting stopped, and the Manotaurs whispered among themselves again. Then Chutzpar came back over. 

“We will share our secrets with one of you,” Chutzpar said. And then he pointed at Stanley. “You will be the one to live among us and learn our ways.” 

“Me? Really?” Stanley asked. Chutzpar nodded. Stanley then turned around and cheered at Ford and Fiddleford. “Woo-hoo! In your face!”

“Just Stanley? But - but how come?” Ford asked, clutching his journal. 

“Out of the three of you, he’s the most manly.” 

“What!?” Ford said, and Fiddleford put a hand on Ford’s arm. 

“Stanford,” Fiddleford said in a warning tone. 

“But - but - !” 

“Now leave!” 

“See ya later!” Stanley shouted after them as they got escorted out of the cave, sounding extremely excited. 

Stanley was gone for what seemed like forever, and Ford mostly sulked back at home. 

Eventually, Fiddleford brought it up. 

“Stanford, you can’t seriously be angry at Stanley for this,” Fiddleford said. 

“How can Stanley be the most manly?! He used to be a woman!” 

“You should just be happy for him. It really seemed to mean a lot to him. I mean, a species that values hyper-masculinity above all else deems him worthy of hanging out with them and learning from them? You do understand how important that would be for him, right?”

Ford couldn’t shut the voice of his father up in his head. A real man would’ve fought Crampelter off, a real man protects his sister, a real man, why can’t you be a real man, a real man, a real man, a real man - 

“He can’t be more manly than me when he has a vagina!”

Ford didn’t know why he didn’t hear the front door opening, but the moment he had looked over to glare at Fiddleford as he spoke, he realized his error. 

Eyes wide, Ford stared at Stanley. Stan’s clothes were torn up, and there were bruises that indicated the typical rough-housing they had gotten up to when they were children. Stan’s expression hardened, but he had seen the hurt that was there. 

“Here’s your stupid research,” Stanley said, throwing the papers he had with him across the room. 

The papers flew everywhere, but Ford couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“Stanley - !” 

“I’m taking a shower.” 

Stanley went up the stairs, and Fiddleford gave Ford a very stern look. Ford had the decency to look ashamed of himself. 

After the shower, Stanley went to bed angry. He ignored the attempts of both Ford and Fiddleford to talk to him or comfort him or whatever they wanted to do. 

He just wanted to be left alone. 

After he got settled into dreamland, however, he wasn’t exactly … alone. 

“Hiya, Moonshine!” 

“… Who’re you?” 

“Name’s Bill Cipher! I heard what your brother said about ya. Can you believe that? Guy thinks he’s so smart, and yet he can’t even grasp that the gender binary is a bunch of baloney, am I right?” 

Stan furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Where’d you come from? This is just a dream, right?” 

“Well, of course it is! What makes you think it’s not?” 

Stan did have a lot of dreams about just driving on the road. He looked back behind him at what he was leaving behind. The Shack…. 

Stanley put his eyes back on the road. Bill was a floating triangle in the passenger seat next to him. 

Yup. Definitely a dream.


	20. Mystery Trio 6

“Hey, Fiddlenerd!” Stan greeted as he and Ford entered Greasy’s Diner. Both twins paused when they saw how miserable he looked. “You doin’ okay?” 

Fiddleford sighed. “Yes. Yes, I … I’m fine. Nothing you two need to worry about. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

Ford and Stan slid into the booth across from Fiddleford, Ford immediately launching into a description of the problem they ran into regarding the portal. 

In the middle of Ford’s explanation, however, they were interrupted a while after the bell to the entrance of Greasy’s Diner rang, signaling that a new person had entered the diner. The twins and Fiddleford hadn’t bothered to look over to see who it was, but soon that person brought it to their attention. 

“Holy shit! Stan? Stan Pines?”

Stan whipped his head back faster than anything Ford had ever seen. 

“Rick? Rick Sanchez!?” 

“Yeah, what up, dog!?” 

Stan stood up, and the two men gave each other a hug. Stan then stepped back a bit. 

“Wait, holy - okay, you gotta fill me in! What happened after we broke outta - ?” 

“First things first, though. Look who I have with me!” 

Rick stepped to the side, revealing a little girl who couldn’t have been any older than ten years old. 

“Beth, this is my very good friend, Stan Pines! Stan, this is my daughter, Beth.” 

“Oh my gosh, I haven’t seen you since you were just a bump in the tummy! How you doin’?” 

“Oh my gosh, you’re Stan!?” Beth said, grinning and looking excited. “Daddy’s told me all about you and how you saved Daddy!” 

“All about it?” Stan asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Maybe not - buurp - all of it, but enough of it to know you saved both our hides. Mighta left out a few details.” 

“Gotcha,” Stan said. 

Beth then gave Stan a big hug, and Stan awkwardly patted her on the back for a moment, taken aback by the movement. 

“I did kinda mention that I wouldn’t be here without you, though,” Rick said. 

“Ah, you’da figured it out,” Stan said, “but I’m glad neither of us had to do it alone.” 

Ford awkwardly cleared his throat. Stan looked over at Ford and Fiddleford. 

“Oh yeah, Rick, these are my dork twin brother and his dork friend/coworker from college, Ford and Fiddleford.” 

“Hello,” Fiddleford said, not really sure what was going on, but appreciating the distraction from his own worries and concerns. (The portal, while important, just reminded him that it was technically a source of his problems.) 

“Hello, Rick, Beth,” Ford said. “Um, how do you two know each other?” 

“We met at camp,” Stan said bluntly. 

“Camp?” Ford asked, his brain blanking on any camp they had gone together. 

“Yes. _Camp_. Y’know.”

It clicked in Ford’s brain. 

“Oh! Oh. Ohhhhhh. Right. Yes. That camp. Right.” Wait, so when Stan said he knew Beth when she wasn’t born yet, and if Rick was at the conversion camp, then that meant - 

Stan and Rick and Fiddleford could pretty much watch the conclusions Ford was coming to via Ford’s face. Stan rolled his eyes.

“For a smart guy, he’s really dumb,” Stan said. 

“Well, this is the same brother you were telling me about back then, right?” Rick asked. 

“Yup.”

“Yeah, not sur-buuuurp-surprised. Though I am a little surprised you two are hanging out again.” 

Stan shrugged. 

“He’s my brother.” 

Rick then nudged Stan in the arm. 

“Hey, I’ve got something to show you,” Rick said. “Beth, stay here with the dorks, okay?” 

“Okay,” Beth said. 

Rick then grabbed Stan by the arm and pulled him with him down to where the restrooms were, then they entered the men’s room. 

Beth slid into the booth next to Ford. 

“So what’s for breakfast?” Beth asked. 

“Uh…..” Ford said, his eyes going between Beth to the bathroom door and back again. 

“Whatever you’d like,” Fiddleford said, handing her the menu. 

“Is he showing him what I think he’s showing him?” Ford asked. 

“Stanford,” Fiddleford said sternly. 

“But is he? How would he even get one?” 

“ _Stanford._ ”


	21. Mystery Trio 7

At first, Fiddleford’s realization that he had a crush on Stanley Pines only caused him problems. Nothing but anxiety and worries, but nothing that manifested outside of his own brain. 

But the first time he and his wife tried to make love after she and he and Tate had gotten settled into their new home, something just … was off and not working right. 

Fiddleford tried, he really did. But it just didn’t … happen. 

That was probably when she first got suspicious, but she didn’t voice any of her concerns until later. 

Fiddleford spent hours and hours and hours at the Pines house, working on the portal, but sometimes he ended up staying even longer because of Stanley. Just talking. Making and watching him laugh. 

He’d feel guilty when he realized how much time he was spending there, though, and he’d double his efforts to stay at home. 

But when Fiona turned on the light in the middle of the night as Fiddleford entered the house, it occurred to him that his subconscious interpretation of “double his efforts” was putting more effort into interacting with Tate. 

It was almost like this was happening to a different person. This wasn’t like Fiddleford. He loved Fiona, he knew this about himself. Fiona hadn’t done anything wrong, she still looked beautiful, and they typically got along splendidly. 

This was Fiddleford’s fault, and he tried not to flinch when she spoke up, sounding super cross at him. 

“Where have you been?” she asked, each word sounding like it was punching the air. 

“Work,” Fiddleford answered honestly. 

“And where is that again?” 

“Stanford Pines’s house. The wooden shack up the road.” 

“Does working on whatever science project it is really take from 6am to 1am the next morning?” 

“Sometimes,” Fiddleford said honestly. “Sometimes not….” 

Even if he had wanted to lie, he was honestly too tired to do it. 

And yet he hadn’t been too tired to talk to Stanley just a while longer, share a beer with him. Just to spend more time with him…. 

“Who is she?” Fiona asked. 

“She?” 

“Yes. She. I know it’s not just science.” 

“There is no she,” Fiddleford said, still telling the truth. 

She didn’t believe him. 

She turned the light off, then he heard her going back to bed. 

When he reached the bedroom, the door was locked. 

With how tired he was, the couch wasn’t difficult to sleep on at all.


	22. Mystery Trio 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Stan talk about their time at the conversion camp. Vague descriptions of horrifying stuff.

Ford and Fiddleford had gone deep into the basement to work on the portal, so Stan kept Rick entertained with a lot of booze and cards and betting not with money but random trinkets that they found laying around Ford’s living room. Beth slept in a room upstairs; Stanley and Rick were going to camp out in the living room for the night while Rick was here. 

In the middle of their game, Rick sighed heavily, setting his cards down and grabbing a bottle of booze. He took a long swig from it straight from the bottle. 

“I sometimes can’t believe we actually escaped that fucking place in one piece,” Rick said. 

“Was it really in one piece, though?” Stan asked. “My brain doesn’t feel like it is anymore. Heh, though that could’ve been because of the shit I went through with Rico. I really am missing a piece of myself now.” 

Stan touched his chest, right where a breast used to be. 

“I thought you wanted those gone,” Rick said. 

“I did. But … .” 

Stan drank his booze from his glass. 

Rick didn’t make him finish his sentence. 

“I can’t believe your big stupid plan actually worked,” Rick said. 

“I can’t believe you actually agreed to it,” Stan said. 

“Well, it was either stay there and have that be Beth’s birth place or follow you out, even if it meant the worst if we were caught.” 

They fell into a comfortable silence after that. 

Stan remembered how Rick had gotten pregnant in the first place. He’d have rather gone to jail for killing that son of a bitch than let Rick and Beth have to spend any part of Beth’s life near that asshole.

“I don’t think I’d’ve made it over the fence if we had to do it again,” Stan said. “Losing the belly fat’s been really hard.” 

“Well, it - burp - is because of those defective ovaries you got. You sure you don’t want to get rid of them?” 

“Yeah.”

“Suit yourself.” 

A beat of silence. Then - 

“So what did they do exactly? I mean, what made you decide enough was enough? ‘Cause I do remember that you had been a little hopeful that your family was gonna come get you,” Rick said. “I’m glad and everything, but you never did say. And I was in quarantine ‘cause of Beth, y’know….” 

Stan stared at Rick for a while, then stood up and grabbed a case of soda from the kitchen. Rick raised an eyebrow at it. 

Stan pulled out a Dr. Pepper, then popped the tab and drank from it. He sighed as he finished chugging the carbonated drink. 

“Dr. Valentino - no relation to the morgue family here as far as I could tell - said that Dr. Pepper was a man’s drink and that a lady should drink something else.” 

Rick furrowed his eyebrows. And waited for the rest. 

“He drug me into the Back Room after I made a big show of drinking the can I had gotten out of the staff vending machine.” 

Rick’s eyes widened at that. 

“Over a fucking soda? Bullshit fucking crack doctor son of a bitch!” 

Stan snorted. 

“You can say that again. Sometimes I swear my hands still shake. That the electricity is still moving through my body. So yeah, after that whole stupid week of actually behaving myself and telling myself Pa would come back after some stupid realization of how I was fine the way I was, that happened, and I decided enough was enough. And that I didn’t care if Pa or Ma or Ford were coming to get me.” 

“Which they probably never did,” Rick said. 

Stan shrugged. “Haven’t asked ‘em.” 

“Maybe you should, if you’re gonna be spending time with ‘em again.” 

Stan frowned a bit. 

“C’mon, let’s talk about something else.” 

“Wha-buuuurp-whatever.” 

Playing wasn’t as fun after that.


	23. Chapter 23

As a kid, Stanley would sometimes use “ladies first” and shove Ford forward, and it was deeply rooted in the fact that he hated that no one saw him as a boy. So he’d tear Ford down sometimes, internal misogyny coming out as he did so. 

In context of their father’s constant putting-down on Ford for not being manly enough, especially when compared to his “sister” Stanley, a lot of anger built up over time because of Stanley’s needling, even when Stanley eventually stopped using femininity as a weapon against his brother. A lot of that toxic masculinity/gender insecurity built up a lot of Ford’s transmisogyny. Inter-dimensional travel really broke it down and introduced Ford to several different concepts of gender. Clinging to binary gender would’ve made Ford completely lose his wits. 

The jabs at not being a real man were forgotten about in the wake of Weirdmageddon. After his apologies to Stan, he certainly wasn’t expecting any in return. 

“Hey, uh, Ford?” 

“Yes, Stanley?” 

Ford stared up at his brother from his desk chair, head tilted so he could look at him. 

It was rare to see Stanley so undressed these days. The days of irritated intentional ignoring of is twin’s nudity as he wandered around their shared bedroom in his lingere were long, long gone. But there he was, only his boxers on, not even his undershirt. 

The chest scarring was ugly but old, and Ford honestly wished he knew who had been responsible for such a botched surgery. If he did, they were sure to pay for hurting Stan. 

“I, uh, I’m sorry for … for all those times I called you a girl when we were kids.” 

Ford stared at him, not comprehending the reason for the apology. 

“It’s … all right, Stanley. You were … having a very difficult time. I understand that you were feeling resentful and … it makes sense that you would lash out that way.” 

“That doesn’t make it right.” 

Stan’s expression of hurt alarmed Ford, but he held his tongue for now. He turned his body to better face him. 

“Every time … every time I look at Mabel, I remember every horrible thing I ever said about women, painting one big brush stroke over them, and … she doesn’t deserve that. She doesn’t deserve any of what I said or implied. She … she’s such a good, strong, independent girl - !” 

Ford got up when Stanley started to cry. He went over to his brother and wrapped his arms around him. 

“I love her so much - !” Stan sobbed into Ford’s ear. 

“I love her, too,” Ford said, remembering everything their father had said that shamed him for not being enough of a man. Remembering every bad thought he had had about women. “I love her too, and we know better now, and that’s what matters. It’s okay.”


	24. Mystery Trio 8

Fiddleford had no idea what had happened or what was going on. Fiddleford just received a call from Stanford in the middle of the night. Having still been banished to the couch in the living room, it took Fiddleford a while to reach the phone. Plenty of time for Fiona to have been woken up by the ringing. 

“Hello?” 

“Fiddleford! Please, I need you, I’m here at the hospital with Stanley, and - !” 

Any sleep that was still with Fiddleford flew away. 

“The hospital!? What happened!?” 

Fiddleford was pretty sure he was hearing Ford crying on the other end. 

“I don’t know! She - I mean - fuck!”

He heard some sort of thump on the other end. He had a worrying thought that Ford had hit himself for letting the wrong pronoun slip. 

“Stanley started yelling in his sleep and I went to check on him and - and there was blood everywhere and - and it wasn’t like the periods from our teenage years, this was worse, this was so, so much worse - !” 

“Which hospital? It’s the one just in the next town over, right?” Fiddleford asked, turning on the light so he could see what he was doing and which coat he was grabbing. There was no time for changing out of his pajamas. 

“Yes, that one,” Ford said. “I don’t understand how it happened, I don’t - !” 

“Try to keep calm, I’ll be right there.” 

“This is all my fault - !” 

“Stanford - !” 

“Ma was right, it’s all my fault - !” 

“I’m grabbing my keys and headed out the door. I’m hanging up now and I’ll be there as soon as I can be.” 

“All-all right,” Ford said, and Fiddleford hung up. 

The man was catastrophicizing, and it sounded like there was some things from the twins’ past that Fiddleford just didn’t have context for. He didn’t understand how Ford could feel like this was his fault or what their mother had to do with it. 

He had grabbed his keys and slipped his shoes on when Fiona appeared at the top of the stairs. Her arms were crossed as she descended the stairs. 

“So there is a woman,” Fiona said. 

“Pardon?” Fiddleford asked, his brain stretching to figure out what she was talking about. 

“Your employer has a sister. That’s who you’ve been spending your time with.” 

Fiddleford bit the inside of his lip. He tasted a bit of blood. 

Fuck. 

“Stanford needs me,” Fiddleford said. “We’ll talk about it when I get back.” 

Fiona snorted. 

“What kind of name is Stanley for a girl, honestly,” she snipped. 

Fiddleford reached for the door knob. 

“I’m coming with,” Fiona said. 

“What about Tate?” Fiddleford asked. 

Fiddleford had a bad feeling as he, his wife, and his very sleepy five-year-old all drove to the hospital in the middle of the night. 

Ford was sitting in a chair in the waiting room, eyes red from crying and body tired. His shoulders were heavily slumped, and his head was bowed. 

He looked up when he heard Fiddleford and his family approach. He lifted his head more, eyes squinting at Fiona and Tate. 

“What’re they doing here?” Ford asked. 

“They, uh, wanted to make sure you and Stanley were okay too,” Fiddleford lied. 

“How is your sister doing, Dr. Pines?” Fiona asked, her voice softer than it had been at the house. 

Ford furrowed his eyebrows, then looked to Fiddleford. Fiddleford gave him one of those faces one gives when they’re in a tight spot and can’t explain what’s happening. 

Ford took a deep breath, then answered. 

“The bleeding … the bleeding was caused by the sudden removal of her reproductive organs…. Ovaries, uterus, the whole thing…. Her urinary tract and urethra have remained in tact, but … .” 

Ford swallowed hard and covered his mouth for a moment. 

When he moved his mouth, he continued. 

“The doctors don’t know how it happened. There were no signs of surgical cutting or any surgery performed. It’s as though someone just took it out by magic, but didn’t bother to heal any of the damage left. They’re - they’re calling the damage done to the - the vaginal and labia area genital mutilation - t-type 4 genital mutilation.” 

Ford looked up at Fiddleford. His face was a ghastly pale color. 

“There’s a lot of things that count as type 4…. Piercing, burning -” 

And Ford’s voice cut off, and the man’s body started to shake. 

Fiddleford sat down and put his arm around his friend. 

“Have they stopped the bleeding?” Fiddleford asked. 

“Th-that’s what she’s in surgery for right now….” 

“That’s good. And they’ve given her anesthesia and will give her plenty of pain medication.” 

It felt wrong to use the wrong pronouns, but both Fiddleford and Ford knew that there was no sense in outing Stanley to Fiona and Tate when Fiona was already convinced Stanley was a woman. 

It wouldn’t be safe for Stanley to have a woman who was angry at him for “taking her husband away” to have that knowledge. 

“Is there … anything you can think of that could’ve caused this?” Fiddleford asked hesitantly. 

“No, I … I have no idea -” Ford started, but then his eyes widened in horror. 

Ford’s back straightened, and he stared ahead of him, eyes wide and mouth trembling. 

“Stanford?” 

“No…. No, there’s no way, they don’t know each other…. Do they?” 

“Stanford, what’s wrong?” 

“But if they did, then why … why would he do this?”

“Stanford.”

Ford abruptly stood up. 

“I have to go talk to someone,” Ford said, then ran down the hall. 

Fiddleford and Fiona stared after him, flabbergasted. Tate had already fallen asleep in the chair on Fiddleford’s other side.

Ford found a bathroom, then took out a pen he had in his pocket and started drawing on the wall. After providing the summoning circle, he spoke. 

“Bill! Come on out! I need to talk to you!” 

The world around him faded to gray, and Bill’s eye appeared in the mirror. 

“Heya, Sixer!” 

“Bill, did you ever talk to Stanley? Did you two make a deal?” 

“So what if I did?” 

“He’s in great pain and is missing body parts! What did you do!?” 

“I did what was asked of me. He did a little job for me, and I took away that thing that keeps making people call him a girl. That’s all.” 

“You really hurt him! How could you do that!?” 

“Oh, and like you haven’t? You’re sure one to talk. It was because of you that he felt like he had to come to me in the first place.”

Ford blanched and took a few steps back from the mirror. 

_It’s all your fault your sister is like this._

_It’s all your fault she’s in the hospital._

_It’s all your fault._

_All your fault._

_All your fault._

“What’s the matter, Smart Guy? You look dizzy.” 

“I didn’t - I didn’t mean to.” 

“Well, that hardly seems to matter, does it?” Bill said, but Ford swore he was hearing his mother’s voice instead. “Though I gotta say, watching him bleed everywhere was pretty fun!” 

“You - you should’ve stopped the bleeding and the pain,” Ford asserted. 

“Fordsy, have you met me?”

Ford bit his tongue. 

He then stormed out of the bathroom. Bill just laughed.


	25. Mystery Trio 9

Stanley was in the hospital for a long while. Fiddleford had to make sure Ford actually got food and walked around, but Fiddleford, Fiona, and Tate couldn’t be up at the hospital the whole time. Fiona had work, and Tate had kindergarten. 

Fiddleford promised to be back as often as he could, and he pointedly ignored the fact that his wife was giving him a look as he said that. 

She was awfully smug in the car, though. Fiddleford didn’t ask about it until Tate was dropped off at kindergarten. He hoped he had gotten enough sleep on the car ride back into Gravity Falls…. 

“You know, I was really worried for a while there,” she said. 

“About?” Fiddleford prodded, though he had a feeling he knew what she was talking about. 

“About you and that woman. But without her vagina and other parts, there’s no reason for you to keep seeing her.” 

They had been about to pull away from the elementary school, but Fiddleford slammed his foot down on the break. The car lurched, and both of their bodies pulled on their seat belts. 

“Excuse me? What did you just say?” 

Fiddleford never would’ve thought she’d ever say something like that.

He tried to dig around in his brain for any reason to think she would say something like that. 

He had always known her as sweet and kind…. 

She shrank in the face of his anger and held her tongue. But Fiddleford did not. 

“Stanley is in great pain and in the hospital, and you choose to say something like that? Out loud? About my friend, about my other friend’s family?” 

His anger was building, and his nerves were struggling to be contained by his mortal, flesh form. He was starting to fidget and show evidence of being agitated. 

“I understand that you’re upset, I understand you think I’ve been cheating on you, and it would be one thing for you to say something horribly petty if Stanley was healthy and well and not in the hospital! But this is terribly low and immature for you! I wouldn’t have thought you’d be capable of it, I - !” 

He still loved her. She was his wife. She had been the love of his life since high school. 

He hadn’t had a crush on anyone else since he had met her. Until Stanley. 

They had been married for six years, how could this be a situation they were having? 

A car honk blared behind them. Wanting to get out of the car drop-off line. 

Fiddleford put the car into park and physically got out of the car. 

“Fiddleford!” Fiona hissed, scared and alarmed. 

“BE PATIENT, YOU MUD-SLINGING - !” 

“Fiddleford, get back in the car!” Fiona demanded, also getting out of the car. 

“AND FOR THE RECORD,” Fiddleford rounded on her, pointing his index finger at her. “I HAVEN’T BEEN CHEATING ON YOU! YES, I’M ATTRACTED TO STANLEY PINES, MY EMPLOYER’S TWIN! YES, I’VE BEEN SPENDING TOO MUCH TIME AT WORK, AND SOMETIMES, IT’S JUST SO I CAN TALK TO STANLEY FOR A LITTLE WHILE LONGER! BUT SOMETIMES, IT’S BECAUSE STANFORD’S SCIENCE PROJECT IS RIDICULOUS! AND STANLEY HAS NO IDEA! I HAVEN’T TOLD THEM! AND YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY? BECAUSE I MEANT MY WEDDING VOWS WHEN I SAID THEM, I LOVE YOU AND I INTENDED TO LOVE YOU AND BE WITH YOU FOR THE REST OF OUR LIFE TOGETHER! I WAS DETERMINED TO LET WHATEVER THE GOSH DARN HECK I FELT FOR STANLEY JUST FADE AWAY AND REMAIN CONTENT WITH FRIENDSHIP! BUT I’M STARTING TO THINK YOU’RE NOT THE SAME WOMAN I MARRIED SIX YEARS AGO! BECAUSE THE FIONA I KNOW AND LOVE WOULD NEVER, EVER, HAVE SAID A HORRIBLE THING LIKE THAT ABOUT SOMEONE IN PAIN!”

Fiddleford breathed hard, and he felt the stares of everyone in their cars and the children who had just been dropped off and the teachers - 

Fiddleford hesitantly moved his head just enough to see whether or not Tate had gone inside the school. 

Tate was standing there with his little fingers clinging to his book bag strap. 

Fiddleford got back into the car, as did Fiona. He had a tight grip on the steering wheel, and drove out of the car drop off area. 

Wordlessly, he dropped Fiona off at her place of work. Then he turned around and went back to the hospital. 

He stayed in the parking lot for a while and allowed himself to cry.


End file.
